Empire 27

This chapter makes a quiet but clear adjustment to the story. Small choices and brief pauses point the plot in a new direction. The shift is steady, not loud, and it sets up what comes next.

A few actions and reactions stand out. A held-back answer, a quick decision, or a look that lingers changes how characters see each other. These beats feel small now but carry weight forward.

Emotions sit just under the surface. The tone shows doubt, hope, or pressure even when the words stay measured. What is not said guides the scene as much as what is spoken.

Earlier choices and old tensions shape how people act here. History does not repeat, but it limits and nudges. The present is easier to read when the past is kept in view.

Trust, distance, and leverage shift by degrees. Roles adjust, and the space between characters changes shape. By the end, connections are not exactly what they were.

Objects, gestures, and setting notes do quiet work. They mirror the mood and hint at motives. Paying attention to them clarifies what is at stake.

Short remarks, paused replies, and choices made too quickly point to what will matter soon. The chapter plants markers that future scenes will pick up.

A few sentences carry the heart of the scene. They show fear, resolve, or longing in simple words. These are the lines that will echo next chapter.

It was Ramona’s first time facing such a crowd, and no matter how she tried to steady herself, she couldn’t quite shake the nerves.

“Who is she, anyway? Shouldn’t the Covington Group send Holden or Mrs. Covington as their representative?”

“Haven’t you heard? She’s Benedict’s illegitimate daughter. Word is she lucked into inheriting a billion-dollar fortune.”

“Is the Covington family really out of options? Does she even know the first thing about business? And they’re letting her get up there and speak?”

“I heard the Covingtons are a mess right now. Imagine making some clueless outsider the heir-looks like the family’s done for…”

“Look at the way she’s dressed-probably thinks this is a fashion show, not a business summit…”

Whispers swirled through the room, growing louder by the second.

Ramona hesitated for a few moments, her mind blank as she stared at the microphone. The chatter only grew, threatening to swallow her whole. Suddenly, a sharp burst of applause cut through the noise.

It was Yancey. He started clapping, his expression calm but encouraging. Others followed his lead, and soon the room was filled with scattered

applause.

The sound snapped Ramona out of her daze. She took a steadying breath and glanced at the teleprompter in front of her-only to find the screen completely blank.

She realized instantly: someone was trying to sabotage her, hoping she’d make a fool of herself in front of the entire assembly.

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As the applause faded, Ramona steadied herself. She didn’t hesitate and began her speech, her voice clear and confident. Her accent was flawless, and with just a few opening words, the gossip melted away into

silence.

What the saboteur hadn’t known was that Ramona had majored in finance-and her curriculum demanded both public speaking and linguistic finesse. Back in university, Ramona had taken first place in impromptu speaking competitions every year. Most of her speeches had been on business analysis; she could talk circles around her classmates without a script, effortlessly weaving together facts and insights.

Unlike the previous speakers, who all relied on interpreters, Ramona took the stage solo, leaving the translator at the side with nothing to do.

Watching her, Yancey finally felt his anxiety melt away.

For five solid minutes, Ramona spoke with barely a pause for thought. Her delivery was smooth, witty, and strikingly professional, so much so that when she finished, the room was silent for a few heartbeats.

Then the applause erupted-loud, sustained, and genuine. Someone from the audience even called out words of praise.

No one had expected that the young outsider, dismissed as an amateur,

would turn out to be such a hidden ace.

Maybe they’d been too quick to judge. How likely was it that Benedict would hand the Covington legacy to someone unworthy?

Ramona gave a graceful nod of thanks and stepped off the stage. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest, but the adrenaline rush was exhilarating.

While speaking, all she could think about was watching Ethan’s live stream the night before. He and the other speakers had such command of the room, their humor and confidence contagious.

She hadn’t caught every word, but the determination in their eyes, their

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sheer presence, had left a mark. She’d tried her best to emulate that tonight-and it had worked.

“Ramona, you really surprised me,” Yancey said, approaching her after the speech. He knew she’d studied finance, but hadn’t realized her public speaking chops were this sharp. She hadn’t even needed her prepared

notes.

Ramona gave a rueful smile and finally told Yancey what had happened with the blank screen.

He just frowned, far calmer than she’d expected. “That’s on me. I should’ve anticipated someone would try a stunt like this, even here.”

“Do you think it was Melinda?” Ramona’s first suspicion was the woman who’d never bothered to hide her animosity.

“It’s hard to say,” Yancey replied cautiously. He didn’t have much fondness for Melinda, but he wasn’t about to make wild accusations and add to

Ramona’s worries.

Still, this little trick made it clear-there were plenty of people keeping a close eye on Ramona.

After the speeches, the evening banquet began in earnest.

Yancey and Ramona were seated at different tables. Yancey wanted to walk her in, but someone called him away at the last minute.

Ramona told him not to worry-finding a seat at dinner wasn’t rocket science, and every place had a name card. She could manage.

But after searching the entire dining hall, she couldn’t find her name on any table.

By then, everyone else had already taken their seats. Ramona, still standing awkwardly by herself, stuck out like a sore thumb.

A well-meaning manager approached and reminded her quietly, “Ms. Jarrett, dinner’s about to begin. Please take your seat when you’re ready.”

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“Of course,” Ramona replied.

She spotted a table with an empty chair near the front-one of the best seats in the room-and headed over.

“I’m sorry, but this seat isn’t available,” a woman’s voice called out, halting

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Ramona looked up. Naturally, it was Solenne Huxley-her nemesis.

Solenne’s lips curled in a half-smile, her gaze sharp with amusement. The other women at the table immediately ducked their heads, stifling giggles.

“I couldn’t find my name anywhere. This one doesn’t have a card, does it?” Ramona asked, checking the empty seat.

“No, it doesn’t,” Solenne replied sweetly, “because this table is reserved for special guests who may or may not attend. Their names aren’t displayed in advance. I thought everyone knew that.”

Her tone was syrupy, but the mockery was unmistakable-she was calling Ramona ignorant for all to hear.

Laughter rippled through the table at Solenne’s words.

“Is this your first time at a dinner like this, Ms. Jarrett? Didn’t you know you’re supposed to find your own name card?”

“Seriously? Ms. Jarrett just gave such an impressive speech for the Covington family, but can’t even find her seat?”

The banquet hall was quiet, every little sound drew attention. Once again, Ramona was in the spotlight, every pair of eyes on her.

It was obvious Solenne had arranged for Ramona’s card to go missing, just to put her in an awkward position.

Ramona stood still, her gaze sweeping over the tables. Sure enough, her name was nowhere to be found. She could feel the mocking stares, see

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the smug satisfaction on Solerine’s face.

Just then, another woman’s voice piped up from behind, Did the

organizers mess up? I can’t find my name card either.

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The scene closes, but its pressure does not. Something has shifted, and the next step will have to meet it. The feeling is unfinished on purpose.

Expect tighter tension and fewer safe options. Hidden truths may press forward. The path ahead should feel earned and a bit sharper.

Which choice will echo the longest? Who revealed the most by saying the least? How might today’s restraint become tomorrow’s turning point?

Rules, memory, and the setting frame each decision. Inside that frame, even small moves gain size. The chapter belongs to its world as much as to its people.

With this chapter done, the story steps forward—quieter, clearer, and ready to show what those choices mean.